In love with your carnage (not the symbiote!)
by ManicPixieNightmareGirl
Summary: After the worst alien invasion ever lands in Queens with an army of clones of every superhero on earth, Spider-man gains the worst kind of attention for slaughtering the clones in record time on his own. Now nearly everyone on the dark side is adamant about seducing him due to being very impressed with his abilities. "Parker Luck" does not even begin to sum up this mess.
1. With great rage come great repercussions

Of all the tactical mediocrity and strategic disasters in the history of **ever, **in a time and world known for idiotic and power hungry schemers with enough power to act on their plans… none had ever been as head-banging, hair-tearing, mouth-frothing rage inducing as The Usur'Pemal Invasion of Forest Hills.

An alien ship had landed in Forest Hills, Queens, at 3 A.M. sharp, and released an army composed of a clone of every superhero known to our world. To add insult to injury, they'd landed only two blocks away from the home of one Peter Parker and his aunt, who got injured by some broken glass during the earthquake caused by the ship's abrupt landing. Spider-man knew nothing but confusion and anger and sorrow as his aunt was carried away by paramedics, riding along with the flow of people evacuating the city. Nothing but guilt and regret of words not said, as he tried not to think about the troubled look in her eyes as she opened his room's door and saw him in his Spider-man suit, ready to leave out the window.

Screaming and chaos ruled Forest Hills. Queens. At three in the freaking morning. Peter Parker had had it.

Now, there was but a tense silence broken only by Spider-man's boots stomping the blood-splattered pavement as he approached the spaceship and the lone alien that was supposedly their General. It was bizarre-looking, with its shinny jewel-embedded armor, and it was probably just a glorified spaceship driver overseeing the mayhem, but the irrational, white-hot anger rekindled in Spider-man's chest upon seeing it.

Had he been anything less than no-more-joking-around wrathful, he would have probably asked it what kind of alien invasion decides to land on Queens at three in the morning. Instead, he settled for dropping Captain America's clone's severed head at its feet (well, if you could call them that) to jam his index finger on its armor-clad thorax. He took a deep breath and tried to find his voice, which was odd because he usually nattered on and on during a fight, without a care in the world. But that was different: he'd never really wanted to kill his opponent before.

"I'll make this very simple for you: take your space fleet, go back to where you came from, and never return here. Or else I'll destroy every single one of you." He growled low and raspy, the voice of someone staring down at the edge and barely holding back.

The big bad alien in fancy armor gulped and dropped the very large gun it had clasped in its… let's call that appendage a hand… apparently deciding not to try its luck against an enraged Spider-man alone.

As the alien raced back into its spaceship, a feral smirk graced Spider-man's dry and bloodied lips, exposed because his mask had been long gone, slashed and torn to the point where he'd pulled it off himself to get it out of the way. He licked his lips absentmindedly, noting the blood wasn't his. That realization only made his smirk toothier, revealing sharp, hollow fangs.

He watched the disappearance of what he later found out was a force field that had been keeping the state of New York locked in and unable to attack the rest of the alien fleet far outside the atmosphere. The only spaceship that had landed on earth was now beating a hasty retreat, and if they were dumb enough to come back Spider-man would hopefully fight them off with help next time.

"Wise choice," Peter muttered, once he lost sight of the spaceship.

There were no tall buildings in the area and he was out of web fluid anyway, so he was going to have to walk… Crawl into an empty home, damaged in the invasion alongside most of Forest Hills and parts of Rego Park, Kew Gardens and Middle Village. What kind of alien invasion lands on Queens anyway? What kind of invasion at all? Why? What's the tactical advantage? That there's no superheroes? They live half an hour away, that's nothing, he'd done that route every day to go to school or to Harry's…

Oh, man, Harry! Off in Europe, would the news reach him? How was he going to explain that he'd dropped the Green Goblin to his doom knowing it was Mr. Osborn under the mask?

It wouldn't be any worse than explaining to his aunt May how he'd caused uncle Ben's death because he'd been a petty little punk and refused to stop a robber and then lied to her for three straight years. Now he hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been good enough, and his aunt had paid the price for that.

He turned on one heel and surveyed the vicinity, looking for injured civilians, for an excuse to delay thinking about what he had lost –his secret identity, his aunt's trust, _his life_-, anything.

What he did not expect was to find was the people whose clones he had just ruthlessly exterminated, freshly arrived and staring at him in something akin to shell shock; well, all except for Deadpool, who had his mask rolled up to his nose and nonchalantly slurped on a humongous soda bottle through a twisty _pink_ straw.

"Remind me to be very nice to him from now on," The mercenary paused his slurping to say. "I mean, I've seen the strongest, biggest, meanest, toughest, smartest, etcetera, whatever, try to go against one, just one, of the guys he just knocked dead and it ends in the Big Bad going home to mommy crying! And it was all so freaking fast, I blinked and missed how he chopped Thor in half midair and let the hammer fall and squash the **freakin' Hulk's** head in. But it's all cool, I can just watch the video. We left the recorder on right? Someone's got to have done that, even if it was the huge screens on Broadway I was watching it on before you guys offered me a ride." He went back to slurping his drink, with a big goofy grin on his scarred lips.

"No one offered you a ride." Someone grunted and Peter didn't really care who.

"That was on the news?" Peter was sure he hadn't seen any kind of aircraft during the fight, let alone a newscast helicopter, but he'd been distracted stabbing people in the eyes with their spinal cord among other such lovely antics.

"Not exactly. It was everywhere, on every screen capable of hosting a life feed. The Usur'Pemal are an alien empire known for cloning a planet's strongest warriors and using them to invade." Real-Mr.-Fantastic explained, because that's what he did best during and after alien invasions, "They are also extremely arrogant and record the invasions as they broadcast them across the invaded world, I believe this is the first one they haven't been able to conquer."

"Serves them right. What kind of idiot goes and says _Hey, not even Galactus could stand up against this planet, let's try them._?" Spider-man huffed, brushing a strand of hair out of his eye and hey, he suddendly felt very aware of his missing mask.

Not to mention the fact that he was soaked in blood and broadcasted worldwide efficiently murdering copies of earth's top-notch superhero population. Parker luck had definitely outdone itself this time.

"I'm just gonna be going then." He said weakly, striding away.

"WAIT! WAIT!" Deadpool wailed.

"What?" Peter didn't stop walking or turn around.

"Dude, are you even legal?"

"Yeah, in this state I am!"

He went home and laid his bed to contemplate the humidity stains on the roof.

"It wasn't even a big, drawn out invasion. It lasted half an hour." He told a stain that looked surprisingly like a spider.

The stain said nothing and Peter had nothing else to say so he slept.

Peter woke up at the much more spider-friendly hour of 10 A.M., took a long shower and crept down to the kitchen to sweep the broken glass and serve himself some cereal.

The quiet got to his nerves, a constant remainder of his loneliness, so went to turn on the living room's TV for some white noise. Of course, the TV was usually tuned to the news channels because Aunt May liked to know what was going on in the world and Peter liked to know if he had to make a quick run into Manhattan to stop some maniac before dinner.

He looked up and saw Dr. Octopus giving himself in to the police. Octavious hopped into an armored truck in which Vulture, Shocker, Electro, and Mysterio sat idly, already cuffed.

"Making him the fifth "Super Villain" to give himself up to the authorities since Spider-man annihilated the Usur'Pemal invading clone army at three this morning. Given that all of the criminals that have given themselves up have had altercations with Spider-man in the past, it's safe to say that they fear an encounter with him." The newscaster said, matter-of-fact. "On the subject of Spider-man, the known mercenary Deadpool approached a news crew and had this to say."

He could always look at the bright side of a reduced crime rate, no matter how uneasy the cause made him.

"Spidey and I go waaay back, so if anyone's interested in contacting him they should hire me." Deadpool grabbed the camera with both hands and continued to ramble. "Don't even pretend you're not gonna, 'cause he just did what more than half the super powered community is been trying to do since forever, man! Oh, and yeah, for all you plotting to seduce him to the dark side, I asked and he _is_ legal."

He shut the TV off, sentencing himself to silence rather than keep on listening to that particular brand of crazy.

"Please, don't let that happen." Peter groaned, looking up at the metaphorical heavens and fates that ruled his life.

His self condemn to silence ended abruptly when the doorbell rang. Peter went to answer it, too weary to pretend to care about anything much past this point, if whoever was there wanted a fight they'd get it, no matter that Peter was out of costume.

"Good morning Mr. Parker." The Kingpin said, and that fat jerk had the nerve to sound _friendly_.


	2. Offers you can't NOT refuse

"What do you want?"

There, under the hot mid-July sun, the fat crime boss should have been sweating like the pig he was, yet no stains marred his expensive white suit. Making Peter feel underdressed in his black tank top, worn out jeans and sneakers. It was ridiculous; no one should feel like they're breaking a dress code in their own porch.

"There is no need to be like that." He held up a chubby hand in a placating gesture. "I merely wish to discuss your aunt's medical bills, you see, Fisk Insurance doesn't usually do this but seeing as extraordinary circumstances are involved, your aunt's hospitalization is been paid for in full and advance."

"What's the catch?" Peter crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, keeping his gaze up to match the Kingpin's.

The man studied him for a moment before answering.

"Of course, we expect to be paid back in full and with all the interests. Seeing as that's been a problem in the past, I came here personally to suggest that you paid by working for me."

Peter tried to calm himself, he did. But he couldn't help but erupt in a fit of laughter strong enough he was glad he'd had his arms wrapped around himself to hold his sides as he trembled. After some moments, he uncrossed his arms and put the back of his fist over his lips, trying to stifle the last remnants of his outburst.

"A man of honor always pays his debts… and keeps his word." Peter started. "I gave my word that I would do whatever it took to stop people like you. As far back as I can remember I never wanted to be a gangster and this "offer you can't refuse" crap is only reinforcing that. Go away and don't come back."

"Look, I know you're a smart boy but stop trying to get smart with me. I'm only here because I did you and your aunt a favor, and I do expect it to be repaid without having to involve the authorities." The Kingpin actually managed to sound indignant!

"You're not the brightest, fatty." Peter had to nip his knuckle to keep from laughing again, "If you do anything to my aunt, you die next. You hear me? If do anything to my aunt, you die next. Also, we both know that if I start poking around in your business things will come up and then you'll have no business. You have no power over me."

His eyes strayed from the increasingly annoyed man in his dirty porch to a car parking in front of the house behind Kingpin's limousine. A police car.

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It's supposed to inform you. Have a good day, live a long life, get out of my sight. I have company." Peter waved to Captain Stacy stepping out of the car and approaching them.

"Very well," Kingpin grunted, "The house insurance has been paid for as well. It's a lovely house, quite easy to find. So long, Mr. Parker." He stepped off the porch, affording a cordial nod to Captain Stacy on his way back to his limousine.

"Peter, what was Wilson Fisk doing here?"

"Oh, just letting me know that his insurance company paid aunt May's medical bills in full. Quite nice of him, really." Peter shrugged.

"No strings attached?" Captain Stacy's tone bursted with disbelief.

"None that I let him attach."The corners of Peter's mouth twitched upwards in the slightest smirk.

"Good." He smiled back, "I came to check up on you. There's no official word on Spider-man's real name yet but the rumors spread fast, as you probably noticed. Gwen said you weren't answering her calls so I came here to tell you myself: it's not a good idea that you keep on being seen together, at least not until things have calmed down."

He'd been ignoring his stupid cellphone because how dare it be more resistant than his own aunt? So he'd put it on silent and refused to acknowledge its existence to teach it a lesson. Plus, even though the silence was suffocating him, he wasn't feeling very talkative. Besides, Gwen was going to college in England, as she'd enthusiastically told him two weeks ago during graduation… Had it really only been two weeks from that peaceful first of July? Yeah, and only one week since Gwen, Harry and Peter had gotten together to throw Harry a going away "to vacation in Europe like rich people ought to" party. Gwen was going to England and then they wouldn't be together again.

"I get it, I get it. Every bad guy and their grandma –well, the ones that aren't too terrified to- are about to try to pull something off to intimidate me and Gwen'd be a perfect hostage. Don't worry, I'm not in the mood to hang out with anyone anyway." It came out sounding bitterer than he intended it to.

"If you need anything, you can call me. Goodbye, Peter." He turned to leave.

"Thanks, sir."

He locked the door behind himself and contemplated the empty living room. The quiet ate at him like an old remorse; the more Peter stood there the more it _grew_. Having enough of it for several lifetimes, Peter bolted upstairs into his room to grab his backpack and skateboard. He stopped giving his phone the cold shoulder long enough to wonder about bringing it. The only person calling him was Gwen and what had to be said had just been said (albeit between him and her father). Who was gonna call him? Harry? Peter intended to put off that conversation until they could meet in person… But what if the hospital called him or something? He turned the phone's sound on and stuffed it in his backpack, heaving a sigh of defeat.

Fishing inside his closet, he found a grey military cap. Flash had somehow convinced everyone to get one at some point during the last weeks of school, all enthusiastic about how he was about to enlist in the army, and Peter had gotten one to celebrate that Flash's "Not a jerk anymore" four mouth anniversary was coming up. He put it on along with a pair of sunglasses.

_"__Take a coat with you, just in case."_ He imagined aunt May saying, so he grabbed a jacket and stuffed it in his backpack.

Then he sprinted down the stairs and out the back door before the quiet could suffocate him any longer.

Peter caught a bus to the nearest skate park and proceeded to work his frustrations off on the stairs, rails, ledges, pyramids, and banks. He made it his goal to skate on every single one of them, paying no mind to anything like the people vacating the park in quiet terror as the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants filled in. What? In the rare times when he actually bothered to put his undivided attention on something, nothing could distract him.

As evidenced by the fact that it took the rail spontaneously curving upwards and causing Peter to soar off it to snap him out of his thoughts. Midair and purely on instinct, he kicked his board up in the air towards his left hand, easily catching it; he landed hitting the ground with both legs and his other hand, undamaged. He turned to look back at it and noticed Magneto floating next to it.

"Greetings, Spider-man. I bid you welcome to the site of your **life's most important choice**." Peter heard people gathering around him, seeing their colorful costumes out of the corners of his eye. "You can join the Brotherhood of Mutants and aid in us finally taking the world that is rightfully ours or-"

"I'm not a mutant… not that there's anything wrong with that." He hastily added when he saw the sour look on the mutant's face.


	3. Doom magnet

Warm sunlight shimmering through floor to ceiling windows bathed the private dining room, casting reflections on Magneto's helmet and the chandelier above them, which Peter's eyes followed with mild interest during lulls in their conversation. The fact that only the two of them occupied a table meant for twenty people in a five stars restaurant felt inherently wrong, like a formal event for which no one but them had bothered to show up. He felt out of place and underdressed again (this time with a legit motive) so he couldn't help but sit Indian style on his chair, trying to seem as casual as his clothes. The fact that Magneto hadn't concerned himself with more than casually chatting through lunch did not help Peter's concern, though. What was really going on here?

On the plus side: the rare steak Peter had ordered was delicious.

"The thing you don't seem to understand is that there are no sides." Magneto said, pausing to sip his wine before continuing. "There are no heroes or villains. There's just what someone wants and how they'll get it. I want mutants -and mutates as well- to take their rightful place as the superior species. As for _how _I'll get it… I hope to count on your help for that."

On the down side: their conversation was going in circles.

"I know mutants aren't exactly treated like royalty and I do wish that would change but your methods don't make me particularly want to help your cause," Peter said flatly for the twelfth or thirteenth time. He busied himself with having another bite of steak, leaving the older man his turn to argue.

_"__Why must you be so difficult? We are smarter, we are stronger, we are superior to them, we are the future of the human race, and we shall rule! All we have to do is work together." Sadness marred Magneto's sharp, steely stare upon meeting Peter's level gaze; "Why are you fighting for the humans that openly scorn and mistrust you? How many times have they called you a menace, ran in fear from you, blamed you for crimes you did not commit?"_

_"__Many." Peter broke their staring contest up to blissfully look at the vastness that lay beyond the windows, his world, his home, "And I have thought about trading the whole Spider-man bit for a hammock in the Caribbean nearly as many times but, you know what? _Not everyone is meant to make a difference but for me, leading an ordinary life is not an option anymore. So I will make a difference in my own terms and that means that I'll try to be responsible, I'll try to do what's _right_. Killing people isn't right, alien clone armies excluded." He absentmindedly took the last bit of steak into his mouth.

"What of the Green Goblin then? Is it a lie that you killed him?" Magneto sounded more interested than reproachful.

Even though Peter suspected that after the spider bite he'd become cold-blooded like most arthropods, he doubted that was the reason behind the sensation of his blood freezing in his veins and creating icebergs that stabbed his heart from within along each rushed heartbeat. He slowly turned back to Magneto, dropping his utensils and wiping a small trickle of blood from his lips with the back of his fist.

"I tried to catch him but there was fog and he fell… it was an accident. I'm not infallible, that's why I said I'll _try._" He uncrossed his legs and sat normally, straighter, daring the master of magnetism to ask further about the Goblin.

Thankfully, Magneto took the hint.

"We digress," He said gently, "the topic of this meeting was an alliance."

"And it has been rejected." Peter stood up, gingerly touching Magneto's shoulder. "Unless your methods change which they should. How many results have they gotten you anyway? Maybe you should call the X-men… call professor Xavier, and join in helping mutantkind without human genocide."

"Think about it." He grabbed his backpack from the chair next to his and slung it over his shoulder.

Peter left walking leisurely and without his Spider-Sense going off, assured that this lunch had not been the weirdest thing to happen to him this week. He saw the X-men rushing in to deal with the Brotherhood and gave them a small wave as he passed them by.

With his stomach full and having skated his entire previous skate park, he opted to go to an arcade to resume distracting himself from his problems. Nothing like a desolate, dingy place only lit by eerie game screens and rumbling with the sounds of moaning zombies, techno music, race cars and overly enthusiastic narrators to help him relax.

Peter found himself focused once more, this time on performing a rather long chain combo to slay a particularly vicious Final Boss. Eyes half lidded and glaring smugly at said Boss as his left hand pressed all the necessary buttons at top speed and his right hand moved the joystick with calculated flicks of his wrist, he let a small smile grace his lips when his enemy fell and the narrator announced "_Perfect, You Win!"_

He ignored the tickets the game started spouting, leaving them for some kid to inevitably take and trade them for a lame prize at some point. He pulled out his game card to start another game when he heard someone behind him clearing their throat.

Peter turned around to come face to face –well, technically face to _chest- _with Dr. Doom.

"Hello," said Peter, casually leaning with one foot against the game he'd been using before. "Sorry, you want a go?" He turned aside and gesture at the game.

"Doom is not here for games, Spider-man." He said after a moment of contemplating Peter, "Doom's here with an offer, if you would come along-"

"I just came from going along with someone with an offer and I turned him down, you know, what makes yours different?" Peter interrupted, turning back to face Doom.

"Doom can offer you power and wealth the likes of which you cannot imagine, anything you desire shall be yours if you join forces with me, Spider-man." Doom's grandiose gestures and thundering voice were rendered effectively ridiculous by the backdrop of the arcade.

"Join you in destroying the fantastic four, you mean? And then what?" Well, he heard out Magneto, might as well try to reason with Doom too.

"What are you trying to say?" Doom asked, eyes narrowing.

"We defeat them, like I did the _first time I meet them_ when I was fifteen and hardly even knew the full capacity of my powers." Doom **twitched** at that, causing an echoing rumbling of metal armor. "Then kill them because of an old grudge you refused to let go of. Then what? What are you planning on doing after they're gone? Conquer the States? Go back to Latveria and rule with an iron fist? Advocate world peace in front of the U.N.? What?"

"Doom intends to rule the world." Lifting his chin, he waved a hand as if to dismiss any doubt Peter might have had.

Peter _tsked_, unimpressed. Doom looked at Peter again, taking a deep breath and letting it out again slowly. Peter took advantage of that and started talking.

"Speaking of Latveria, how are your people doing?" Doom twitched again. "Do you even know? They could be starving and impoverished, with hardly enough to go through the day, as far as you're concerned. Give me a reason I should help you rule the world if you can't be trusted with _a_ _small country_."

**"****YOU INSOLENT-"**

"That's not a valid reason." Peter turned his back to him, checking in his card in the machine to begin a new game.

It felt a bit like hypocrisy: Peter didn't know how his people were doing either. In what hospital had his aunt been checked in? How was Gwen dealing without either of her best friends? Did Harry even recognize him on the video?

He heaved a sigh, giving up on his game and all pretenses of distraction. Sparing but a glance at the dumbfounded tyrant, Peter pulled out his cellphone and left the arcade shielding his eyes from the bright afternoon sky. Sweet, wonderful, reliable Gwen picked up at the first ring.

"Hey." Peter said lamely.

"I was just going to visit your aunt. She's at Mount Sinai Hospital, by the way."

"Your dad said…"

"I'm an independent woman and can make all the bad choices I feel like. See you there." She hung up before Peter could try to protest.

Doom came out of the arcade and looked at Peter questioningly as he opened the door to his limo. Peter put his cap and sunglasses on, shrugged on his coat, and took a bus.


	4. Sincerity

Peter Parker had never been paranoid –because it's not paranoia if unthinkable evil really _is_ out to get you- but the brief, weird looks some people were giving him made him decide to get off the bus two blocks early. He pulled up the hood of his coat and took off the sunglasses, walking under the light rain that fell from the sky as if trying to wash away this _useless_, _weird, stupid_ day.

A clatter and a familiar purring coming from an alley made him peek inside. No alert from his spider-sense. Maybe his spider-sense broke or maybe it was everyone else that broke but something was **off** with the world today… more than usual.

"And how are you?" purred Black Cat, "I was just passing through and wanted to check on my favorite spider."

"How does everyone suddenly know where to find me?" Peter wondered, looking up at where she sat on the fire escape ladder.

"Deadpool's been posting about you on his blog."

"Deadpool has a…? No, scratch that. People read Deadpool's blog?" He leaned against the soaking brick wall, as if he needed the support to keep on standing after such a revelation. Also, he was a little tired.

"Only the posts about you." She said without the purring, titling her head. "You're really out of it today."

Peter let out a sigh, shaking his head slowly. He said, "Mass murder does that to me, believe it or not."

She jumped down from the fire escape and walked up to him to caress his cheek comfortingly. She cheerfully said, "Deadpool only posts nonsense anyway, made up stories about Magneto and Dr Doom trying to, to seduce you!"

"They did offer me alliances, but I turned them down and there was absolutely no seduction going on."

"You mean Magneto actually bough you lunch?" She shrieked, taking her hand off his face.

"Yeah."

"I'm going to have a chat with Deadpool." She said, climbing back up the fire escape.

"Be my guest. I'll have a chat with him after I'm done taking care of something." He got off the wall and walked away.

"Oh, and Venom's been doing the Lethal Protector routine again." Black Cat called after him, "Trying to convince everyone that he's good and you're evil."

"Why do I attract crazy people?" Peter groaned, kicking a flattened can as if doing _that_ would relieve all of his frustrations.

He left the alley and strode forwards to the hospital's door, catching a glimpse of a blonde getting out of a cab and not even bothering to open her umbrella as she rushed for cover under the nearby hospital's roof. Because Gwen Stacy would never open an umbrella that she'd only need for five steps.

"Hey," Peter called, running up to her. "Up for a little talk? Ah, mind if we walk and talk? I'll tell you everything, you'll laugh I guarantee."

"I doubt the laughing bit, but go ahead."

"It was during that school trip to OsCorp Labs, remember that? The animals they engineered to have all the best traits of their species? Well, this genetically engineered spider snuck out from a tiny crack in its cage's glass and it hopped onto my hand. Then it bit me and something in its venom caused its genes to mix with mine. Next morning I had spider-powers."

"Look, you don't have to give me details but the truth would be nice." She smacked his leg with her umbrella, stopping their walk.

"That is the truth!" He said helplessly, "Part of it. The other part is where my dad was a scientist working for SHIELD and OsCorp researching transgenetics, three guesses about what he was genetically engineering to later mix with a human and the first two don't count."

"That spider couldn't have lived that long…" Gwen considered, along with what little she knew about Peter's father.

"Yeah, I probably got bitten by its great grandchild. It's all a big coincidence." He reassured her.

"That gave you superpowers." She said, resuming the walk for the elevator. "If he worked for SHIELD too my money's on Super Soldier Project take five hundred."

"Possibly, but he never got to the point where human testing started and I haven't seen any other Spider-Men so I guess they scrapped the project." _Because he had long since decided not to think about the other answer to that question._ "Ain't it crazy just enough to make you grin?" He grinned.

"It's so crazy I can't mock it properly." Despite herself, she grinned a little.

"So I've lied ever since, to everyone. Just spinning lies like spider webs. Heh." They reached the elevator and he pressed the button. "I'm sorry."

"Secret identity, it's a superhero thing." She shrugged, "Taking pictures for the Bugle was a really good cover. Too bad now the whole world knows your face."

_Ding. _The elevator's doors opened. The two teens went in, fitting themselves into the mass of people inside.

"You're taking this really well, actually. Aren't you scared?" He whispered to her.

"Spider-man's no killing rule is legendary." She whispered back, holding up a hand as if to dismiss clone armies as inconsequential. "And the Peter Parker I know wouldn't hurt a lab rat unless it bit him first."

Peter felt a smile grace his lips, sweeter and calmer than all the vicious smirking he'd done today. It remained there the whole ride to the fifth floor and after he and Gwen left the elevator.

"I'll give you guys a moment for all-purpose heartwarming." She gestured at aunt May's room door.

Peter smile fathered upon seeing his aunt connected to an IV, but it did not disappear completely.

"I'm sorry… I thought telling you would trigger a disaster." He said, taking her hand between both of his.

"You thought I'd fall apart?" She scolded him, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you know very well that Parkers are stronger than that and Parkers by marriage are twice as stronger."

She took a calming breath before continuing, "When your uncle Ben died, it would have been easy to give up but you needed me so I dealt with it. I got back up. I went through funerals, losses, and the insanity that is New York and even though at first I feared Spider-man... feared that blank stare as he turned towards where I was before he kept chasing after Ben's killer… I realized that he –that you- are a hero."

"It was my fault uncle Ben got killed in the first place." His smile was gone for good now and his hands shook. "The first thing I did with my powers was try to make money in cage fighting. I let a thief pass by me because the guy he'd robbed had just refused to pay me for the fight. And the thief killed uncle Ben for a getaway car. That's why I do what I do, to make it up to him. But I couldn't find it in me to tell you…"

"I knew you were hiding _something_, how could I live with you and not realize it? But mostly I chalked it up to you, Gwen and Harry being up to your usual mischief and you being a teenager." She said wistfully. She'd been so happy when he'd told her and uncle Ben that he'd finally made friends, near the end of his first year in Midtown Science High.

"Sometimes it was that." Like one Friday night that started with Harry and Peter just wanting to drive around in Harry's then brand new car and had ended with the two of them in New Jersey, dressed up in what they could scavenger in a thrift shop, paint-stained, and pushing the car five miles to the nearest workshop.

"I love you."

"Love you too. I'll never let you down or lie to you again, I swear."

The door creaked.

"Can I come in?" Gwen asked, peaking inside. "Or is the soap opera still going?"

"Hello, Gwen, lovely to see you." Aunt May beckoned her with her other hand.

Then, as if sensing that an emotional moment involving his two closest friends was taking place, Peter's ringtone for Harry resonated from within his backpack. Peter fished it out and stared at the screen displaying a picture of Harry giving a ridiculous eyebrow-raised look from over-expensive sunglasses and smirking.

"No more secrets. I owe you three that." He said to no one in particular as he plopped down on the small couch besides his aunt's bed.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and answered the call.

"Hey, don't say anything, just listen, okay? I am Spider-man and I- I owe you an explanation. Your dad didn't board that plane to Madripoor, he would have if the Green Goblin hadn't kidnapped Gwen earlier that day. But it happened and I rescued Gwen and fought him, and he threw a smoke bomb at me and took off my mask and he took off his mask… And it was your dad underneath it. His glider got damaged in the fight so he… he fell, and I tried to catch him, shot a web at him, but I couldn't see him in the fog. He told me not to tell you, but you were going to find out sooner or later, when someone realized your dad never boarded that plane." He opened his eyes, relieved that telling the truth wasn't so difficult after all. "So, um, if you never want to see me again I understand…"

"Oh, I believe he does want to see you again, Mr. Parker. In fact, we were calling to arrange for a reunion." Said a man with a faint trace of a German accent at the other end of the line.


	5. Bye HYDRA!

The rain had stopped and starless night had fallen instead, leaving the streets of Manhattan brighter than in the day due to countless city lights. The summer night breeze toyed with Peter's coat as he stepped out of the cab (in which he'd just spent all the cash he had on him) and walked into OsCorp Tower.

He waved at the receptionist, walking the known path to the elevator. His Spider-sense was conspicuously not tingling, so possibly this would be over after a quick rejection on his part, like his encounters with Kingpin, Magneto, and Doom had. Peter spent the long ride up beating himself mentally for tempting fate like that.

Over the years, the penthouse at the very top of OsCorp Tower had become like a second home for Peter. So much so that the grocery list featured some things only he liked, the guest room right next to Harry's kept a small percentage of Peter's stuff at all times and all the highest scores in Harry's _Avengers vs. EVIL! _were Peter's. Which is why, when the butler opened the door for him and guided him in to the dining room, Peter's eyes wandered around, looking to make sure nothing had been changed in his absence. Other than the HYDRA goons, everything looked as it should, thankfully.

Peter did not want more surprises today or this month. So, naturally, when the double doors to the dining room opened, he got a big surprise.

At the head of the table sat the man -the monster- that had arranged this encounter, smoking so casually Peter had no trouble believing he did this sort of coercing often: the Red Skull, behind him stood his burly bodyguard, Crossbones, and further back near the window stood Mother Night. To the Red Skull's right sat Harry, arms resting on the table but chest bound to his chair and to his left sat Norman Osborn, likewise tied up.

"Diner shall be ready in half an hour," the butler informed him before leaving for the kitchen.

"Spider-man, how grand of you to join us!" The Red Skull said with a sardonic chuckle.

Peter ignored the ex-nazi and looked at Mr. Osborn. Mr. Osborn stared back.

"What." Peter said.

"It would seem that I had a doppelganger." Mr. Osborn said.

"Spider-man," Red Skull said, annoyed that he wasn't being paid attention to, "Great power has always baffled primitive men, _those teeming masses that exist for the sole purpose of lifting the few exceptional people onto their shoulders. _You have great power but you insist on wasting it doing what other so-called super heroes are already doing. If you'd take the time to listen you'd understand what HYDRA is trying to do."

"People like you are why I worry for the fate of humanity." Peter said scornfully, "And _the join me and together we could rule the world speech has never worked in the entire history of its being attempted. Ever.__ Much less today.__"_

"What is this mad obsession with heroics?" He sounded irritated and resigned, like a parent that's been called by the school for the third time in the same month. And wasn't that a _wonderful _mental image?

"It's not an obsession, it's a responsibility but I don't think you'd understand that anymore than I understand why everyone is trying to get me on their side today, Skull." Peter said in a clipped tone.

"They are trying to get you on their side, however ineffectually, because you'd be a valuable asset." Red Skull now sounded like he was trying to explain to a particularly slow minion that two plus two equals four.

"Hm. And the fact that if I wanted to rule the world I'd just go and try it myself didn't occur to anyone because…?" He looked pointedly at the megalomaniac.

"Because you are a mystery to most," He said, getting up from his chair, "few know of your motives, of your goals, and the ones that could vouch for your _morals_ have given themselves up to the authorities to avoid risks."

He walked around the table to where Peter sat.

"Me? A mystery? I'm an open book, ask anyone." Peter said once the Red Skull was too close for comfort.

"I have," The Skull said, positioning himself behind Peter's chair to loom over him, "I had an enlightening conversation with young Mr. Osborn and later his father before making that call. Afterwards too."

The Red Skull had gone and interrogated his best friend, maybe even hurt him, and for what? Harry didn't know Peter was Spider-man until everyone knew, what could the Skull have possibly asked? Peter's favorite candy, his taste in movies? And Mr. Osborn knew arguably even less, if he really wasn't the Green Goblin.

"What'd they tell you?"

"Interesting things, to be sure. Young orphan, raised by your aunt and uncle, best of your class, haughty-"

"Haughty?" Peter repeated mildly offended, turning to Harry.

"A lot less so now, but _still_." Harry said, looking up and at Peter for the first time.

"It isn't bad, in fact you reminded me of myse-"

"Do not compare yourself with me. My answer's still no. To anything and everything you have to say. Nein, niet, laa, votch, pù shi, ne, ei, ohi, ʻaole, iié, non, nei, na, nie, não, nu, nej, maï, hayir. Not gonna happen, stop being idiotic and, well, just stop being you."

It had been a while since the last time he'd said no in so many languages, something his mother (a linguist) had taught him to annoy his father, among other things. He liked doing it so much that he'd never grown out of the habit of learning languages sporadically, even after all these years without his parents. The gasps it got out Crossbones and Mother Night made it all worth it.

"I do not appreciate being called idiotic." The Skull said, moving to loom over Peter's side so the young man could see him.

"Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will only cause you lasting psychological damage." Peter sing sang, looking up at him, "Well, more of it."

"What is it that you want? There must be something I can offer you."

"You could always try and stop existing…"

The Red Skull shouted in rage and hit a fist to the table, right in front of Peter.

"Stop angering our kidnapper." Harry said reproachfully.

"But witty banter is so much fun. I mean, people look so funny when they're raging impotently!" Peter gestured at the fuming Skull to make his point.

"If he kills us, I'm blaming you."

"I won't let him hurt you."Even if it killed him, his ghost would come back and haunt the bastard if need be.

"Rest assured that hurting young Osborn is more difficult than what any of us imagined," he said appreciatively, "The serum running through his veins has made him a… somewhat equal version of Captain America, if only physiologically."

_Why, hello, second big surprise of the evening! How do you do?_

"You took Gobulin Green." Peter stated, looking intently at Harry.

Harry said nothing and shrugged as well as one could when tied up to a chair from the armpits down. Mr. Osborn, who had been stonily staring straight at the Red Skull all evening, turned to look at his son with a hint of worry.

"If there are any more surprises today, I'd like to know them right now." Peter declared sternly at the world at large.

Promptly, Deadpool came in kicking through the window, followed by Venom and Black Cat.

"Nobody move, you're all under arrest and SHIELD's gotcha surrounded!" Deadpool bellowed, "Hands where I can see 'em, nice and easy, I don't want no scene at my crime scene!"

Crossbones opened fire on Deadpool and the two began exchanging bullets as casually as baseball cards. Black Cat rushed at Mother Night. Venom went straight for where Peter and the Red Skull were.

Peter, not needing any kind of sixth sense to know that Venom would rather attack _him, _got up from his seat, grabbed the Red Skull's wrist, and swung him at Venom's head like a whip, one, two, three, four, five times. Until the ex-nazi stopped squirming and Venom grabbed his other wrist and began a thug-o-war.

"SHIELD hired you? Now they're just _desperate_." Peter said, trying not to pull too hard or blood would stain the carpet. "And why would Ibe under arrest?"

"Consorting with known criminals and being a menace." Venom snarled, not making any effort to avoid blood on the carpet so Peter let go of his Red Skull Whip and let the force throw Venom back along with it.

"I'm not a menace!" He grumbled, picking up his meat knife and busying himself with cutting Harry lose.

"Remember our orders? Anyone?" Black Cat yelled, "We're arresting members of HYDRA and that's it. No death, no other prisoners."

Deadpool's and Venom's shoulders dropped at about the same time. Deadpool picked up the bleeding Crossbones and slung him over his shoulder and Venom slung the unconscious Red Skull over his shoulder as well. Black Cat knocked out Mother Night and Deadpool slung the unconscious villainess up on his free shoulder.

Peter went to the other side of the table and began cutting Mr. Osborn lose.

The dining room's double doors swung open to reveal a squad of SHIELD agents, Nick Fury, and the butler who in his most "British and above being affected by all this madness" tone said:

"Dinner is ready; regrettably it's only enough for five."

"That's okay," Peter informed him kindly.

"Very well." And he scurried off to fetch the food.

"How can you be hungry-? Well, you're always hungry-" Harry protested.

"Using a supervillain as an improvised weapon really opens the appetite." Peter explained, finishing cutting Mr. Osborn lose. "Taa-daa."

"Peter Parker, Harry Osborn," Nick Fury said, "SHIELD's putting together a new team, a group of amazing people with not so amazing pasts so they could become something more. See if they could work together to to fight the battles no one else could."

"Don't tell me you're rehashing the Thunderbolts."

"We're thinking about changing the name, but the idea is more or less the same."

"There is **no way**." Peter said.

"I'm in." Harry said.

Peter sighed, "…Can we discus it over dinner?"


	6. Interlude: More than meets the eye

**OsCorp Tower's Penthouse, dining room.**

Peter Parker was definitely more than what met the eyes, Nick could swear it. The fact that Richard Parker's son had gotten spider related powers ten years after his parents' deaths seemed too much of a coincidence to be one. Assumptions had proven deadly in his line of work before, but this time there was no way that the boy –the young man- curling his tongue around the bundle of pasta rolled around his fork and slowly sucking it past pink lips to gulp it down could be just a normal guy with powers.

Nick took a sip of his wine glass, Chianti as Osborn had insisted. They might not like each other personally, but Fury had to admit that the man had great taste in liquor.

"It has come to SHIELD's attention that the serum OsCorp was working on for us yielded results, as can be seen from your son's regenerative factor and enhanced capabilities." He told Osborn, "But I believe the results started to show earlier, in a certain green maniac rampaging New York."

"I believe, Director," Osborn mimicked his tone, "that the Green Goblin was an associate of mine. Professor Mendell Stromm, my research partner for the Gobulin Green formula, disappeared along with some of the pure serum only days before the Goblin made his first appearance if I'm not mistaken. It's not too incredible to think that he'd gone through plastic surgery to resemble and incriminate me, though we'll never know his motives now."

"Did you ever get to test it before he disappeared?" Parker asked, forgetting his food and leaning towards Osborn with open curiosity.

"No, and he was quite a level headed man before it. I've since tested it on rats and they became… quite psychotic as a result."

Parker looked pointedly at Osborn's son.

"I'm not psychotic." The redhead stated.

"That is **exactly** what a psychotic person would say." Parker pointed his fork at him.

"With a lot more evil laughter," He grumbled, "I didn't take the pure one."

"I was wondering where the revised serum had disappeared to." Osborn's tone could have preserved Captain America in ice for another 70 years. "Suspected corporate espionage even, but never _you_."

A tense silence fell upon them and Nick took advantage to change the subject.

"About my offer," He said, looking back at Parker, "I want you to lead my team."

"Just like that? After everything that happened?"

"Several trustworthy people have vouched for you. Stark and Johnny Storm too."

Parker's lips curved in a small smile.

"Your team being Black Cat, Venom and Deadpool… it doesn't inspire trust and nobody is vouching for you so…"

"You'd be in a team, a government superhero team. No one would think you're an evil menace with mysterious agendas anymore." The younger Osborn argued, matter-of-fact.

"With the lineup and his timing, I bet it's far too Black Ops for my tastes. It'd be the same as ever but under orders." Parker scoffed.

"And paid. And with PR people to reign the Bugle in. And government approved, so no one would try to arrest you again…"

"Why is he making the sell, if this is your offer?" Parker turned to Fury, clearly annoyed and biting the inside of his cheek.

Interesting. Fury was sure that if he'd presented the same argument on his own, Parker would have had a quick comeback and exit. The Osborn kid had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

"He's agreed to join, so he's speaking in the name of the team."

"He's never been to the field!"

"Taskmaster can take care of training. All of you will have to go through it before we send you on missions without SHIELD back up."

Parker sighed and looked down at his empty plate as the butler replaced it for dessert.

**Wilson Fisk's manor, Kingpin's study.**

Peter Parker had proven definitely more than met the eye, as Wilson Fisk's morning visit had shown. He'd acted as Spider-man normally did but the threat… His voice grew cold, his fangs seemed to grow larger, and his eyes held such cool disinterest that The Kingpin held no doubt on the boy delivering. A murderer hiding behind the pretense of idealistic vigilante, but why?

Because that's what Parker was, a boy younger than Fisk's son, not even eighteen yet and likely around fifteen when he started chasing criminals, with so much power and yet he struggled to make ends meet.

Sitting behind his desk, Fisk inspected a folder full of all the information his sources had dug up on the Parkers in what little time they'd had.

He wouldn't touch the boy's aunt, but he had many other sorts of leverage at his disposal: The Parker's house's mortgage wasn't paid yet, for one.

**Outside of Xavier's School for the Gifted.**

Peter Parker had proven definitely more than met the eye, Magneto pleasantly discovered. Reasonable enough, to be sure, and he'd been likely right on joining forces with Xavier again being a good idea.

Ignoring his tendency to run at the mouth, Parker and Xavier were rather similar, averse to killing, intelligent, and willing to hear someone out instead of instantly pummeling them. It must have been an omen, Magneto thought as he approached Xavier's school, ignoring the Brotherhood's complaints.

This time they could work something out, maybe even make a miniature Genosha out of Xavier's state. Have a university as well as a high school so Parker could come to study here.

**Latverian Embassy, New York.**

Peter Parker was definitely more than met the eye, Doom had learned. The young man truly had defeated the Fantastic Four upon their first meeting, as some research (after a few calls to check up on the state of affairs in Latveria) had proven. He didn't seem to think much of defeating the Four or world conquest, in fact he'd refused Doom on the grounds that he didn't seem to think Doom a worthy ruler casually enough to make the monarch wonder if proving otherwise would earn Spider-man's favor.

Lounging in his seat and sipping wine from a goblet, Doom contemplated a compromise. A plot to destroy Richards that would end in benefit for Latveria.

**Containment cell, SHIELD helicarrier.**

Peter Parker was definitely more than met the eye, the Red Skull realized as he regained consciousness. He clearly had a (still unknown to the Skull) reason for not trying to take the place that was rightfully his at the top of the world order; had shown more interest in the Osborns than what the Skull had to say and he'd said no in twenty languages counting English, in a manner reminiscent of Agent Fitzpatrick; and had casually used **him** as a weapon of opportunity.

"_His patience is infinite… right until it isn't."_ The Osborn brat had told him.

That young man _was_ haughty and in need of humbling.

The Skull bid his time, waiting for the moment to escape and enact his revenge. Parker would come crawling to him like the insect he was and beg to join HYDRA.

**OsCorp Tower's Penthouse, dining room.**

Peter Parker was definitely more than met the eye, Norman Osborn knew. Best of his class, a self made man taking care of his aunt and willing to help anyone who asked, his constant absences and disappearances made much more sense now.

"You'd all be doomed without me," Peter told Fury and Harry from behind the napkin he was wiping the cake from his face with. "I'm in. When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning." Fury said, pushing his chair back.

"Is noon good for you?" Peter asked hesitantly. "You really don't want to see me before ten."

Fury's eyes narrowed but he nodded and got up to leave.

"An agent will pick you up at your place at twelve O'clock, sharp." He turned to Harry, "Someone will come for you too, in the morning."

His tone left no room for arguing so Harry only nodded and muttered agreement.

"Lovely diner, we should do it again someday." Fury said as a farewell, not bothering to close the double doors behind himself.

Peter and Harry got up too, at the same time. Peter pointed a finger at Harry's chest, right at his heart.

"Do not do anything reckless like sparring with the rest of the team or pushing yourself too far during training or convincing everyone to go into town for lunch. Just. Be as unadventurous as you can tomorrow until I get there, okay?" He said, giving his finger a little wag before crossing his arms over his chest.

Norman loved Peter like a son, all the more because he seemed a little too eager to believe that Norman hadn't been the one behind the Green Goblin mask and had Harry's best interests in mind.

"I'll be an angel while I wait for you."

"And after I get there too, don't think I'm going to let you do as you please just 'cause you've got powers now-"

"Good to know someone responsible will be around," Norman said, making both boys flinch as they suddenly remembered he was there. "It's getting late, Bernard will drive you home."

"Thank you," Peter said, nodding at both of them. "See you, then." He left for the kitchen to find the butler.

Peter would make a great heir to Norman's legacy, all he had to do was face the darkness and become a man. Become an Osborn.


	7. Training montage I

**Day 1, July 16****th****.**

As it turned out, he wasn't going to train with the rest of the team yet.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear one word out of you, understood?" Taskmaster snapped as soon as Peter stepped into the room, "Sure, I talk tough, but I set up my academies so I could make good money _without_ facin' jokers like you. I don't take lip from my students and you're no different."

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.

"Sure, you won the battle, two days ago. But that only triggered the wrong kind of attention and a _million_ future battles._SHIELD's been calling your team suicidal cannon fodder._ Prove them wrong."

"I will."

"What did I say about shutting up?" Taskmaster scolded, "For formality's sake, do a hundred runs of the circuit."

After two hours of sprinting and avoiding death traps, Taskmaster dubbed Peter "good to go" and went back to check on the rest of the team in the other training room, leaving Peter with his other mentor, Captain America.

"Let's start with the basic, maps and signals."

When the time came to leave, Peter caught a glimpse of his… teammates doing pushups; they all seemed to be in one piece so Peter counted it a success and went home at peace.

**Day 2, July 17****th****.**

The doorbell ringing woke him up at the ungodly hour of eight thirty-five. Grumbling, he put pants on and went downstairs to investigate.

Turns out the bank was done sending letters telling the Parkers about their mortgage and had decided to start sending people to try to collect. The poor man looked like he might have a panic attack at any moment too, so Peter felt specially guilty when he told him to come back next week and **never** before 10 A.M. or very unpleasant things would happen.

He closed the door after watching the man leave walking backwards as if afraid of turning his back on Peter, and crawled on the walls and roof to get to the bathroom and take a shower. Try to wake up properly.

Once properly awake and dressed, he went downstairs to answer the door again. This time it was his transport to the Triskelion.

Cap and Black Widow spent the next nine hours teaching Peter basic fieldcraft navigation and moving at night, respectively.

By the end, Peter's SHIELD uniform felt like it'd been glued to his skin with sweat. He got back home too tired to even attempt to heat something up, so he ordered a pizza and fell asleep on the couch dully noting that he needed to start making a new costume... Tomorrow.

**Day 3, July 18****th****.**

Due to the Red Skull and his two cronies escaping the helicarrier, Black Widow taught alone that day. About camouflage and concealment skills, section attacks, and more night navigation.

Peter sometimes asked her to repeat herself because her cleavage distracted him a little. Only a little.

"You're easily sidetracked." She noted.

"Sorry, I got caught up in my own thoughts again."

"It happens more than you think."

"More like it happens when I think." He grinned.

"That joke was bad and you should feel bad." She shook her head in disbelief, "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"An old colleague from SHIELD, her name was Mary, Agent Mary Fitzpatrick."

"She wouldn't happen to be very good with languages and have dark hair and eyes, would she?" He asked with faux innocence.

"How do you know that?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow, "She retired before you were even born and died not too long after."

"Retired…?" Peter remembered his mother had worked, right until the time of her death in that plane crash with her husband.

"She was a field agent before becoming a translator and data analyst, coming from a long line of SHIELD agents even. We worked together once, on a HYDRA base raid, but she was rather hard to forget."

"Tell me more." Peter pleaded.

"We have a lesson to finish." She said sternly. "This can be a little lesson on information gathering too."

**Day 4, July 19****th****.**

The daylong live firing on the ranges, Peter could have gone without. Every shot sounded sharp and loud in his ears despite the protective headset, and he thought of his uncle's eyes losing their life. Bang. His uncle's breath stuttering. Bang. "With great power must come great responsibility" or else you're just another selfish, harmful jerk. BANG. His uncle's blood cooling in his hands, it felt sticky like web fluid.

"Not bad." Hawkeye and Black Widow agreed in the end.

"Guns aren't my style." Peter retorted.

That only incited the two agents to make him try out every possible weapon in the armory until he found some he liked.

Why SHIELD issued whips was beyond him, but he couldn't complain.

**Day 5, July 20****th****.**

First Aid training day saw Peter treating real injuries of real SHIELD trainees under the supervision of a nurse. Minor bleeding and burns, choking, fainting, bites and stings, sprains and strains. They cropped up so much that Peter, improvising, had to learn to prioritize the wounded and calm the waiting. He was very good at stitching up wounds, to people's apparent surprise.

Aunt May came back home that afternoon, driven by Gwen's mother because she was an independent woman too and could make all the choices she felt like, whether her husband liked it or not.

His aunt welcomed him home with diner and stubbornly refused his attempts to practice what he'd learned about first aid on her. All was good.

**Day 6, July 21****st****.**

He'd been looking forwards for his Chemical Biological Radioactive and Nuclear training.

Talking shop with Mr. Fantastic and Dr. Banner all day as if he hadn't horrifically murdered their clones could be considered the best day of this week.

"Time's up." Sue Richards informed them, making herself visible besides her husband.

"But we really should continue this conversation…" Mr. Fantastic said and, seeing the look his wife shot him, quickly added, "Tomorrow night, after Peter's training."

"I'll swing by your place then." Peter said enthusiastically.

"I can't, regrettably, but don't let that stop you." Dr. Banner told them.

"We'll take notes for you." Peter assured.


	8. Training montage II

**Day 7, July 22****nd****.**

"Zun Tsu said that the epitome of strategy isn't winning every battle, but winning without fighting." Captain America told him, mostly hiding his worries about not having caught the Red Skull yet.

"He was right. Ideally, a conflict should be dealt with swiftly, decisively, and without loss of life. Ideal circumstances are scarce and no plan really survives contact with the enemy so the best advice I can give you is to drop whatever is inefficient and keep the rest when you're making a plan."

Peter listened, engrossed in the lecture. Thoughts of a to-do list forming at great speed in his mind: he should read the Art of War, play a few strategy games online, kill Captain America, and maybe redesign his costume to look more like someone in charge of things…

"_**Kill Captain America?" **_Realizing what he'd though made him startle in his seat.

"Are you okay?" The Captain stopped his lecture to give him a quizzical look.

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking…" He couldn't say what he'd just thought or that he was very capable to act on it, "What if a plan goes awry?"

"Improvise. Don't expect that just one tactic or strategy will help you defeat your foes in the long run. Be flexible enough to take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself, however small, and avail yourself of any profit, however slight. Be pragmatic, distract and confuse your opponents, surprise them, anger them into making mistakes." He smiled at Peter, "You're good at that."

_What an _annoying_ face that man has. He was Peter's hero since childhood. What an idiotic holier than thou act he played on people across the nation and the world. He was honestly a good man. So out of touch with the times, keeping everyone from advancing. He was advancing too, slowly in some areas but that didn't mean he had to die! _

"As a leader, you are to think under pressure and make fast decisions but don't let that be a excuse not to think things through before giving orders, also know thatissuing orders that aren't absolutely clear invites disaster." The Captain looked uncomfortable for a moment, "Especially with the people you're working with."

"I get it." Peter assured him, nodding. That was the most movement he'd made since flinching at his strange thought. "Anything else?"

"If all else fails, retreat." His big, blue eyes pierced at Peter's. "Don't let pride or any other emotion get the best of you."

They practiced playing a few rounds of Risk in a boardroom. Peter hoped the Captain thought the deliberate way he was playing was due to analyzing the situation slowly rather than having to think three times before playing. First, a thought about why he should murder the good Captain, then a thought that told the first thought where to stick it, and last an actual thought about the game. He won about half the matches.

After, he rushed out and away to the Baxter Building. Maybe a scientific chat with Mr. Fantastic would help his mind stop thinking crazy thoughts on its own. _Go back and beat Captain America with his own shield, right in the Triskelion. _He could get Mr. Fantastic's opinion about using web fluid without dissolvent as a fabric for his new costume.

"_I'm not even going to answer you anymore, your plots are terrible. You must be the part of my brain without common sense."_ Peter told the part of his mind that was coming up with mediocre assassination plots.

All was good and well until he entered the Fantastic Four's headquarters and his Spider-Sense started tingling. Doombots were inspecting the place, packing up inventions and documents. Then he saw said Four suspended in a death trap in their own living room while Doom lay sprawled on their couch, idly watching them as if they were a bad TV show and he didn't have the remote to change it for something better.

Peter couldn't repress an irritated sigh.

"You want me to ask or can you start gloating on your own?" Peter groaned.

"Spider-man, welcome to the place where the Fantastic Four will meet their demise!" Doom gloated, "As we speak, Doombots are combing their abode, taking all of their accomplishments, their data, all which can be of use to the world that they have kept to themselves. Doom shall make Latveria and the world better, over the Four's corpses."

"I admire the cause but why do they have to die?" Peter asked tactfully, glad that a gag muffled Johnny's indignant yelling. "Give me a reason other than you personally not liking them."

"Why should Doom need other reason?"

"How can someone so brilliant be so dumb?" Peter snapped, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "You're a genius, you are, I swear, you really are. But you could be so much more. You could be the world's greatest benefactor and instead you chose to entertain petty squabbles. Why couldn't you be the better man and move on? Be better than Richards and do what he hasn't, act on the plans to make the world better…" _Target his ego, Peter, he might just listen._

"So could the government. So could _people_. The world _already possesses_ all the tools needed to end hunger, for a mere example. It would be politically complex, but the material resources exist. They simply are not doing so. Global _military_spending is over ten times as much as global spending on international aid." Doom growled, rising to turn around and face Peter. "Do not treat Doom as if Doom's the only one not changing the world."

For a moment, Peter's mind went blank. Only the thought of finding and slaying Captain America in broad daylight in front of the Statue of Liberty resonating within the dark corners of his mind. Seriously, what was up with **that**?

"Be the first, show by example." He stammered, "If you're truly better than them, why should you kill them? Why should you take their accomplishments instead of crafting your own?" _C'mon, ego…_

"Very well, Doom shall show the accursed Richards and his family mercy." Doom proclaimed, after giving it some thought. He snapped his fingers and the Doombots ceased their ransacking to free the four.

"Say," Peter said to Mr. Fantastic, "Among all this stuff, is there any kind of telepath blocker?"

"Sure, why?"

"I'm hearing a voice that tells me to kill and it sounds just like me," Upon seeing the looks of horror on the four's faces, he quickly added "But I don't think it's me."

A Doombot brought Peter a helmet from one of the boxes they'd been packing. He tried it on and thought: Maybe he'd just done a very good thing and convinced Dr. Doom to not be an evil tyrant, he should check up on Magneto and see if he'd done two very good things and made him quit trying to be an evil tyrant too, he should kill Captain America with his bare hands…

Peter took off the helmet, annoyed. "Not a telepath."

"I believe you've mentioned having the senses of a spider? This voice might be a broadcast by an ultrasonic transmitter."

"Have a way to detect any of those in the area?"

"You know we do." Susan said before looking up, "HERBIE?"

The Doombots had switched HERBIE on, and the AI gave them an address about a block away.

"Thank you, anyone wanna come knock some sense into HYDRA goons with me?"

"I'll go as soon as Doom and the Doomsies leave the building." Johnny said, glaring daggers at Doom.

"Doom shall accompany you, Spider-man." Doom said, snapping his fingers again to make all the Doombots start to leave the penthouse behind him.

Peter briefly wondered whether he should try his luck and discuss the proprieties of his web fluid minus the dissolvent chemicals vs. other fabrics with Dr. Doom on the elevator ride or not. They had a rather pleasant chat; actually, it lasted all the way to where the voice in his head was being broadcasted from. Doom only looked mildly puzzled when Peter deviated from their route to buy a bag of **_SIZZLIN'__INFERNO __FIRESTORM__ DEATH PEPPER __CHIPS _**at a convenience store.

The look on the Red Skull's face when he saw Peter and Dr. Doom blast the wall down was a thing of wonder and beauty that made Peter regret not carrying his camera on him. Doubly so (and infinitely more), when Peter flung a _**SIZZLIN' **__**INFERNO **__**FIRESTORM**__** DEATH PEPPER **__**CHIP**_ into his mouth when the man tried to speak.

Between him and Doom –and later, Johnny- it was the easiest arrest Peter had made in some time.

**Day 8, July 23****rd****.**

His "Leadership lessons" consisted of some education on the Geneva Convention followed by an introduction to orders and recruit training. Captain America grinned through all of it and Peter found his amusement contagious.

The Red Skull defeated via Peter dumping the contents of a whole bag spicy chips directly into his mouth, go figure.

"I have a draft for the training." Peter said, showing him what he'd written on his notebook.

"This is rather harsh but mostly within reason," The Captain declared after looking it over twice, "Go ahead."

**Day 9, July 24****th****.**

Peter's eyes meet each of his teammates, one by one. Black Cat's intrigued gaze, Venom's narrowed white "eyes", Deadpool's eyes would be amused under the mask if the big grin marked under the fabric was anything to go by, and Harry's inquiring look.

"Being responsible, being a hero…" He started, wishing he'd come up with a speech beforehand.** "**It's not about satisfaction, it's about getting things **done**. There just aren't any excuses, you've got to _get the job done no matter what. __And that job is_to come for the darkness, the evil, the filth of the world, and make it face you, and teach it to be afraid so it will think twice about showing its face wherever you are."

"People are whispering behind our backs, calling us a ticking time bomb, cannon fodder, an embarrassing incident waiting to happen. Truth be told, we aren't exactly the crème de la crème of law enforcement. We're more like milk so dangerously near its sell by date that it's being marketed as cheese, right now." He unhinged the whip from his belt and cracked it against the floor. "That's about to change. Welcome to the Parker one week intensive course, SHIELD edition."

Harry, who was quite acquainted with the Parker one week intensive course (academic and gym class editions), started to surreptitiously shift backwards towards the nearest exit. Peter cracked his whip again, this time right in front of his friend's feet. All attempts of escape were futile.


End file.
